Captive Angel
by Poisonous Picasso
Summary: MxN Mello has always wanted to beat Near. In order to succeed, he kidnaps him. But like a disease, Near begins to take him over, his mind, his heart, his body. Nothing will ever belong to him again. M for later chapters. :P
1. Chapter 1

**I AM NOT DEAD! Just suffering from that prison referred to as school. I decided to write something, because I haven't been recently. It's saddening. I know. Anyway, I really want to write something with more than one chapter that's not _Mary-Sue _so, maybe I'll try to make this a first chapter? I dunno. We'll see how it works out.**

It was dark the night he kidnapped me.

I don't remember much besides the rain, pounding a tune with no beat against the rickety glass of my window. It was also cold in my room, with the heater being broken, and no one to repair it yet. I was sitting at my desk, the small, goose-neck lamp shining a soft circle of gold on the paperwork I was losing interest in.

It was going on two in the morning when I heard the low, pounding whirr of a motorcycle coming up the road, splashing brutally through the puddles left by the sky's tears. I didn't think much of it, after all, it was a Friday night, so many young couples would be sneaking home from wild parties at this time. No, I didn't even feel a hint of suspicion, not even when the noise suddenly stopped right outside the SPK building.

Although, I probably should have been. I believe I was too tired at that time, and didn't want to think anymore. It was ironic though, because just before he entered my room, I was looking at his picture, cradling it, gently in my smooth, pale hands. The hands that had never been drenched in blood, or tears, or anything for that matter.

Hands that didn't have a history.

I was looking at the picture. The meaningless piece of laminated paper, that never could quite capture the true beauty of him. It couldn't capture the way his eyes gleamed with anger and insanity at the sight of me. Couldn't capture the sharp curvature of a well hidden smirk. It didn't capture the shadows brought on by a scarred childhood hidden in the depths of those blue eyes.

So in a way, I guess I wasn't looking at him. I was pondering this when the door creaked open on its rusty metal hinges. I didn't turn my head, thinking it was just Giovanni, dropping off _more _paperwork. I with held a groan, and placed the picture back in my pocket as subtly as I could.

When nothing else stirred, I made myself respond in a stable voice. "Yes, Giovanni?"

Still, there was no response. I sighed, turning, ready to yell at my slightly air-headed assistant. I was met with the harsh, woolen fabric of something black. I couldn't see anyone, or hear anything but pressing silence. I felt whatever it was tighten, someone's hand brushed against the back of my head as my captor tied the strip of fabric together.

I opened my mouth about to say something, I don't exactly know what, but it probably wouldn't have made sense. Before I could muster a sound, though, a hand slapped over my mouth, cool and smooth, the scent of leather drifted towards me when I inhaled.

"Go quietly and willing, and I won't have to hurt you." A voice, vaguely familiar, although I couldn't place it whispered in my ear. A shiver worked it way down my spine, and I nodded submissively. I was in no mood to argue with my kidnapper and potential murderer. In fact, all I wanted to do was go to sleep, I wanted to curl into this warm darkness, and just...drift...away...

(**Mello)**

I let myself smirk as I pulled the drugged glove from my hand, supporting his weight gingerly on my burning arm. I bit my lip slightly, resisting the urge to wring his neck and throw him out the second story window, no, that wasn't the point to this mission. The point was merely to keep him as long as it took me to catch Kira.

He mumbled something, his jaw dropping open, reminding me to hurry up and get going. After all, these policeman types always woke up early. _Really _early, actually, and it was going on three o'clock. I threw him over my shoulder, wincing slightly at the fresh wave of agony that ripped through me.

Right, still healing.

Sighing, I shifted him to the other shoulder, the pain residing to a dull ache, I could've really used a bar of chocolate about then. I strode to the door, all set to rip it open, stopped, listened intently, then opened it gingerly, stalking into the hallway.

Just so you know, he'd definitely gained weight.

I trudged as quietly as I could through the hallways, careful not to run into any walls or anything. I looked out the window, through the pouring rain I could see my shiny, black baby waiting for me, Matt hooking up the sidecar to hold this fucking two hundred thousand pound brat.

I sighed with relief when I found the stairs, walking as carefully as I could in the dark. I just wanted to get out of there. This whole environment was beginning to make me jumpy. I ran my hand along the wall, until I felt the door, heard the rain pounding against it, a raw beat that brought me to ease. I crashed through it, belatedly pulling my hood over my head.

Matt looked up, smiling widely at me. I half smiled back at him, throwing the brat into the sidecar and buckling him in, sitting him up as though he were a willing-and awake-passenger. Then I hopped on behind Matt, clutching his stomach tightly.

"Go." I murmured in his ear. And like a puppy, he responded, whisking us off into the rain-raped night. My hood falling back, soaking my hair, my burning face. It was like being in a dream, almost. A strange dream, that could go bad at any second, but for the time being was perfect.

I was trapped in it. In the whirling bliss of foggy rain.

And I'm not quite sure I minded.

**(Near)**

I woke up when we were only half way home. The icy wind and pelting rain is what essentially woke me up. I was still blindfolded, my arms were bound together in my lap, and for some reason, I was beautifully warm. All these factors made it hard to fight off the drowsiness brought on not only by the drugs but by the week of sleepless nights.

I stifled a yawn, I wasn't quite ready to die, and I'm sure I thought I would've been killed at the time. I still didn't know who my captor was, but I could hear him murmuring to someone else, who's voice was also familiar to me. Neither of which I could place, still. My senses were still feeling slightly drugged. Making even thinking hard at the time. I remember continuously dozing off, only to snap awake again, reminding myself to remember details to tell the judge while I watched my captors get prosecuted.

I barely remember stopping. But I _do _remember being cradled momentarily in the arms that would become so familiar to me, before being thrown over a shoulder, and then moved to the other one. I heard them talking, but I was so tired, so very sleepy, I couldn't...make...out...thewordz.

When I woke up-this time for real-I was warm, and it wasn't fabricated. I opened my eyes, a soft orange glow swam into view. A figure was silhouetted against it, tall and skinny, and slightly feminine. Holding something rectangular in her clenched and shaking fist.

Then she...I mean _he _stepped forward, completely in the light. His blue-green eyes grinning maliciously at me. I felt my eyes swell up, my mouth drop agape.

"_Mello..." _My mind whispered the automatic recognition. My body, however took longer to realize who it was. As soon as it did, though, it reacted. My body broke out in gooseflesh, my arms struggled to be freed from their bonds, I want to touch him. His hair. My fondest memory is of how soft is hair was, clenched between my shaking fingers.

Cold metal bit into my pale skin, causing me to cry out in sudden pain. I stopped moving, feelings that I thought I'd left behind with my teenage life came clashing back into me with sudden, unexpected force. He crouched down to my height, the sweet scent of chocolate mixed with a bitter tinge of blood and leather teased the edges of my senses.

He tilted his head, slightly, his smirk surfacing from beneath it's carefully solemn disguise. His eyes still held a hint of those tortured shadows, and all the insanity. I felt as though I were drowning, falling deep into the waves of emotions. Curling up against all that I'd missed.

"Hello, Near. Have you missed me?" He murmured, touching my face, gently. He whipped his head abruptly to the right, removing his hair from his face, and revealing...

Anger exploded within me. Someone-I'm not sure _who_-had hurt Mello. And I hated them. I hated them for causing harm to my so imperfect angel. I hated them for making him even more appealing, for giving him more of that "dark side" that appealed to every teenage girl (and me) across the nation.

I nodded, finding it impossible to talk when facing such marred perfection. When facing my brutalized angel. My angel that was never really good enough to be accepted.

He laughed once. More like an insane bark of abrupt noise. He stood up fast, grabbing a fistful of my hair, and wrenching my head backwards. I bit back a cry of angry pleasure.

"Good. That makes you vulnerable to me." He said, malice slowly filling his voice, he let my head drop, tenderly stroking the painful patch. I sighed. This part of Mello I hadn't missed. I hadn't missed the strange and quick changes in temper. One moment, he could be gentle, soft-spoken and lovable, and the next, he'd throw a table through the window, scream a string of brutal curses in your face...and you'd hate him.

You'd hate him more than anything. You'd hate him because he wouldn't let you love him. Even though that's all you wanted. Like me, I hated him, because he wouldn't let me show my true emotions. He made me hide behind an uncaring mask.

Which, despite all appearances, I hate more than anything else.

I looked up at him, fighting back my tears. I didn't want to show any weakness, I shouldn't allow him to be that satisfied. That's one thing you learn with bullies-don't ever play the game their way.

"What do you want from me?" I murmured, keeping my voice neutral, trying to sound like I just simply didn't care. He laughed again, this time with more humor.

"I just want to finally beat you at something." He said, the smirk melting into a look of wild lust. Of need. He didn't just _want _to beat me, he _needed _to.

"They're going to realize I'm gone." I said, keeping my head lowered. He had turned his back by then, but stopped abruptly.

"Then I'll kill them." His voice was low, and quiet. With that, he left the room, closing the metal door behind him. I sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the door. Waiting, waiting for him to come back.

I sighed.

Some people never change...

**I am so ecstatic with this chapter! Let me know how you feel about it. And if you want add me on Livejournal. I just made one! **


	2. Chapter 2

I wasn't sure how long I'd been there.

Handcuffed to the wall, searching the dark, looking for some sign of life. I wasn't sure how long I'd sat, listening intently to the sound of loud footsteps and barking voices, the voices of men, of free men. I wouldn't cry, I couldn't let myself, it was too impossible. Too unlike me to do so. But I really wanted to. I wanted to show some kind of emotion, something that Mello would notice, maybe something that would make him let me go.

Finally-after what felt like an eternity-the door opened, a sliver of yellowish light drifted into the room, burning my eyes, causing me to squint. A feminine form peeked in, one, catlike blue eye glared at me, and then the door burst completely open, Mello's entire being silhouetted by the light, giving him a godlike aura.

"You could've turned on the fucking light." He greeted me, stomping over and flipping a switch that was just barely out of my reach. He was right, though, with a little stretching I could have reached that, and wouldn't have been left in the dark.

We stared at each other wordlessly, minutes ticking by, allowing a flood of memories and all-too-familiar emotions flood over us. He reached over, and unlocked my hands, causing them to fall, limply to the floor. He smirked, and extended a hand, a somewhat over-gentle gesture for him.

I grabbed his hand, taking a moment to examine my cuff-burned wrist, my perfect hand scarred. It was ironic, it had only been a few hours ago that I had been pondering that. Pondering how unmarked and disgustingly perfect my skin was. On how I had no scars to tell a story.

Now, I would have one.

Despite the bitter surroundings, a sense of pride flooded over me. I would have a story to pass on through life, when people asked about the odd scar on my wrist I could tell them of this. Of how I was kidnapped by my former lover and held hostage until God knows when.

It took me a moment to realize we were still holding hands, our fingers were loosely linked, as though we were children again. I blinked, staring at our hands, wanting to pull away, and yet, unable to. I squeezed his hand, rough and scarred, caked with dirt from ages of mud, blood and tears.

He squeezed back, and then dropped my hand as we entered a room, opting instead to grasp my shoulder, pushing me forward roughly. The room was wide and tall, arched upwards in a circular shape. People were everywhere, with mild amusement, I thought of a beehive. Hoardes of muscular-and taller-men looked up as Mello entered, straightening instantly their smiles fading into respectful scowls.

Oh, so he was the queen bee around here.

I should have known. Someone with a brain like Mello, someone with his anger, his fire, his lack of mercy would quickly rise the ranks around here. Someone who could be both gentle _and _brutal all at the same time would have to take over.

He looked straight ahead, not acknowledging one of his men, acting as though they didn't exist. He pushed me through double swinging doors and to a huge-_huge-_black man with pleasant eyes and a sweet smile. Mello returned it, his face suddenly turning boyish and childlike again. All of a sudden, he was the little Mello again, the Mello who would hide under tables during thunderstorms with his ears covered, singing loudly and way out of tune, the Mello who always slept next to me, holding me close to his warm-sometimes _too _warm body. I felt tears rise to my eyes.

He pushed me-gently, this time-toward the man.

"Feed the boy," he said in a husky voice. The man nodded, once, taking me in with curious eyes. He looked at Mello, ruffling his hair gently.

"Sure will, Chief." He said with a chuckle. Mello's smile grew, I didn't understand this interaction. What had happened to the boy-no, man-who had been in the room before this. The man trapped in the body of a boy who had grown up to fast. Where had he gone?

Moments later, he was gone, leaving me alone in the care of a stranger.

**(Mello)**

I fled from the kitchen as soon as I was done conversing with Mark, I couldn't be in there, I couldn't be around him, around his sent, his body, his cool emotions. I couldn't stand it, it was too hard.

So I ran, stumbling through the hallways, secret passageways and trap doors, looking desperately for a place to hide, heat rising all through my body from the exercise and exertion. I found a broom closet, whipping it open, and stumbling inside to the very back, falling into a sitting position against the wall.

At first, I rocked, back and forth, my shaking hands clasped tightly over my panting mouth, staring numbly at the broom and mop bucket, which had seen years of unknown-and disgusting-substances. I couldn't feel any emotion, and yet, so many were coursing throughout me.

And then...I was crying. I don't even know how it started, but I was, I was clasping my knees to my chest and crying uncontrollably. Letting out all the tears I never could, all the tears I didn't ever want anyone to see, the tears I could only shed in private, away from everyone.

I felt familiar emotions coursing through me, emotions I hadn't truly felt since childhood. I could feel him, the softness of his pale skin under my hands, my lips, my entire body. The skin I was always so careful not to mark, only because I didn't want him to end up looking like me. With the scars of abuse lashed out across my stomach, my back, my arms.

And now my face.

I touched the numbly burning side of my face gently with a shaking hand. Winced away from it. I was damaged, I'd never be beautiful again.

Now the outside perfectly reflected the inside.

I grabbed a chocolate bar, scrambling out from the closet and back into the hallway. I took three deep breaths, and then headed back toward the cafeteria to check up on Near. Along the way I passed Xavier.

Poor Xavier, he'd been new, and apparently, hadn't known where to keep his nose.

He greeted me with a smile.

"Hey, Chief! Are you okay? You look like you've been cr-"

I shot him, three times to be exact. Even though he'd been dead after the first shot, then I kicked him and began to walk away.

Oh yeah, the outside was _almost _as ugly as the inside.

**(Near)**

As it turned out, Mark turned out to be a really nice person. We talked-mostly about Mello-while I ate. He had some funny stories to tell, and some not-so-funny ones. I ended up finding out why Mello liked him so much.

I had asked, very nonchalantly mind you.

And he'd answered.

"Well," he'd said-after pursing his lips for an unnecessarily long time. "It was a rainy night in dah city, I was walkin' back to headquarters-which is where we be now-when I seen him. He was leavin' the house a'one of those well-known old men guys, and he was walking sort of...funny. Almost waddlin' ya know? Actin' like he had a ten-foot dick up his ass. At dah time, I'd been thinkin' he was a lady, and dah way he'd been dressed, it was obvious he was a whore. So I caught up wit him, ya know? Thinkin' I could get some. Or at least hopin' to.

"When ya see him face-to-face it's obvious he's a boy. But from behind, well-he got somethin' worth lookin' at if ya're catchin' my drift. Anyways, I ran up to him, and I says, 'Young lady-' dat's about as far as I got, he turned to me, his big blue eyes juss drippin' wit big ol' fat tears and he says-no, he screams 'I'm not a chick you old brute!' and he tried to run from me.

"But it was obvious he couldn't he was barely able ta walk at dah time, so abused had his little body been. So I thought to meself, 'why dontcha juss take 'im home for one night. Couldn't hurt nothin'.' And dat's what I did."

I stared at Mark, shocked.

"Why was he selling himself?" I asked, my emotionless facade long-since forgotten. Mark opened his mouth to answer.

"I dunno. He only told me he had to go and find some little boy named Nathaniel, I suppose he hadn't been to nice to 'im. Mello does dat a lot, he goes and makes everyone angry wit him and then feels bad. He was gonna get that little boy, too, and let 'im know he was orite. I supposed he also wanted to bring 'im back to dah headquarters. He never went, though. Always said he knew what the outcome would be."

Again, I could only stare at him, tears shimmering beneath the surface of my silvery eyes. There was a huge lump in my throat, I couldn't force any words around it. I didn't know why I wanted to cry so much, but I wasn't going to. I wouldn't let myself.

Just then, the doors burst open, and there he stood. Mello, in all his feminine beauty.

I couldn't fight it, I stood up quickly, my chair falling backwards, and stared. Again, he reached out his hand, I took it, clinging on tightly, not letting him drop it, again. I kept my face emotionless.

_Thank you. _I thought, hoping that somehow, he would hear it.

**I am so happy with how this chapter ended up! It's so amazingly fluffy. I love it! I think I'm going too fast, but that's okay. :D**


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